All I Want For Christmas
by fangirlgonewild
Summary: Spoilers through 3-09 "Spit and Eggs." Four Christmases of LoVe, begins pre-series.
1. Chapter 1

Lilly flopped over onto the floor, flipping her cards so that Veronica could see that, once again, Lilly would lose the hand.

"Lilly! In poker you kind of have to keep your cards to yourself. Come on, play this hand a little close to the vest."

But Lilly Kane wasn't the kind to downplay anything and Veronica knew it. Boys, booze, sensuality, she had them in spades and wanted the whole world to know. Like now, when she nibbled lightly on her bottom lip and twirled a lock of hair around her fingers, Lilly might as well be screaming "Take me now, right here on this carpet! Fall for me! Lose to me on purpose to win my heart!"

Incidentally, Lilly lay on Veronica's bedroom floor practicing seduction for no one as she learned to play poker for Logan. Lynn confirmed the night before that the so-called "First Annual Christmas Card Shark Night" was a go for the night of the Echolls' Christmas party. Veronica heard through the grapevine, otherwise known as Duncan, that Aaron would be out of town for the holidays, and Logan arranged this little diversion to avoid being shown off all night.

With no husband on her arm, Lynn usually looked to her son for an escort, and Logan didn't want to play the game of Hollywood Squares that was his parents' world.

Thus, Logan took it upon himself to throw the "most bitchin' party ever," and Lilly, who lacked poker skills altogether, had asked Veronica to teach her to play.

Veronica sighed and glanced over at Lilly, who picked up her cards and grinned like a maniac. "For a girl who can lie with a completely straight face on a whim to her parents you really have to work on your poker face."

"Oh, come on Veronica Mars! You know that I'll just wind up blowing on the dice for luck every time Logan snaps his fingers at me. He's been so possessive lately, maybe it's time to end it."

"There are no dice in poker, Lil."

"Whatever. So…" Lilly trailed off, looking around the room in search of a distraction from the cards before her, "Whatcha gonna wear to the party?"

"That's still a whole week away."

"A week," Lilly began, intoning a kung fu master voice, "is not that long. Much can happen in a week's time."

The two fell to the floor laughing, cards forgotten and strewn about.

Yet, a scant seven days later Veronica stood before her closet, wondering what on earth to wear.

Her cell phone buzzed, moving across her desk.Veronica jumped, cursing herself for leaving the stupid thing on vibrate.

"Lilly?"

"You still don't know, do you?"

"Why you call me with pointless and unclear questions? No, I don't know."

"Wear the black corduroy skirt and the red top. The shimmery one, the one that's all strappy in the back."

"What? You called me to find out what I was wearing tonight?"

"Looks are very important, Veronica Mars. You want everyone to watch you, and you don't want to give them a chance to think about the cards on the table."

"So now you're a poker expert?"

"Did you know they play it on ESPN? There was this one guy, sort of blonde-ish, he was tall and all rugged—"

"If they play sitting down, how'd you know he was tall? Don't answer that—let me get ready. I'll see you there."

Veronica and her parents pulled in to the Echolls' driveway just as the party began. When Veronica pushed open the door to the pool house, however, she saw that the 09er crowd had not yet arrived.

_Probably still primping—and speaking of, where is our host? Re-applying gel to his hair?_

Wandering further into the room, Veronica caught sight of the new card table. Its green felt was unscratched and it came with tiny racks to hold each player's chips. An unopened deck of cards lay on the rim, and Veronica idly wondered if she'd brought enough money.

"Gonna stack the cards, Mars?"

Veronica turned to find Logan pulling on a dark green sweater, which pushed the carefully messy hairdo he'd constructed down onto his head. Searching to find her voice, Veronica wondered how long he'd be able to surprise her with how delicious he looked.

"Oh, considering it. Trying to decide if a small crime would compromise my good-girl rep, you know."

"Weighing the consequences, considering the options, that sort of thing, I get it." Logan swept his eyes down Veronica's body, adding after a moment's consideration, "You look good."

She flushed, but Duncan's entrance saved her from having to reply.

Three hours later, the party was in full swing, and Logan, who had begun drinking upon Veronica's arrival, was more than a little tipsy. Lilly lost her money a few hands into play, and was now totally bankrupt. She and Logan apparently were off-again, as they pointedly ignored each other while sober, and Lilly became increasingly more flirtatious as the night wore on.

Logan's eyes followed Lilly around the room, as she moved from person to person; she stopped to giggle at something Dick said, causing Madison to pull her boyfriend away.

Veronica, meanwhile, now had a surplus of cash. The chip stack in front of her continued to grow, and she now could afford to buy Duncan the latest remake of next year's Madden NFL game without leaving herself in the red. Or feeling guilty when he gave her (another) piece of jewelry.

Gathering her chips and standing, she threw a look at Duncan that included a swift sidelong glance at his sister. He nodded imperceptibly and stood as well, taking Lilly's arm and whispering in her ear.

Logan stood as well, wobbling slightly as he moved to cash in his remaining chips. Despite his obvious lack of coherent thought for the last half-hour he'd played, Logan had done well all evening and managed to maintain a sizable pile of chips.

Duncan walked back to Veronica, pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead.

"I'm gonna take her home before my parents leave. If she's in bed they won't check to see if she's wasted or not--they'll just be thankful they don't have to hear her say anything more about poker now that the party's over." He glanced at Logan, who now clung to the edge of the bar for support. "You okay man?"

"I'll take care of him. My mom probably won't want to leave until your parents do." Veronica offered.

Duncan left, dragging Lilly after him, and Veronica turned to Logan, who watched her through heavy-lidded eyes. She tilted her head, deciding how best to get him to leave. Opting for the direct approach, she wrapped an arm around his waist and tugged at him until he moved with her toward the door. No one at the party noticed as their host stumbled away from the booze and gambling.

Logan didn't speak as she guided him toward his room. Numerous games of hide-and-seek, usually initiated to get Lilly and Logan alone in a closet, had taught her the layout of Logan's home, and the pair skillfully avoided contact with the partygoers entirely.

Stumbling on the stairs, Logan leaned heavier on Veronica, and she turned toward him to take more of his weight.

_He smells like…Christmas, all evergreen and peppermint…and whiskey._

She shook her head, pushing away thoughts she'd given up long ago. Lilly and Logan, it was off-again, on-again, but she just couldn't play that game. A long-dead girlhood crush wasn't enough to ruin her friendship with Lilly—or her relationship with Duncan. Still, Logan's chest was warm against her side, and she could hear the steady rhythm of his heart, and—

"This is mine," Logan slurred, stopping Veronica before she walked right past his door.

Leaving him standing by his dresser for support, Veronica turned down the bed she was positive he hadn't made.

"Come on, let's get you to bed."

Turning, she saw he'd thrown his shirt into the corner of the room and was removing his jeans to reveal Grinch-covered boxers.

"Logan! I'm still in the room!"

"It's not like you haven't seen me in swim trunks. Practically the same thing." He swayed slightly, and Veronica instinctively put out a hand to steady him.

"Uhh-oh, touched my bare chest, Duncan'll probably kill you." He paused, gazing at her in a drunken stupor. "And me, for thinking about you."

Confused, Veronica removed her hand from his side. Logan stumbled to the bed, and she drew the covers up to his neck, tucking them in around him as if he were a small child.

"So pretty, always prettier than Lilly. The prettiest flower prettier than the flower," Logan intoned, sing-song, as sleep and alcohol clouded his brain.

Veronica sat down on the bed next to him, and he sat up.

"You're supposed to be going to sleep," she chided.

Veronica bent toward him to push him back down onto his pillow, and found his hands framing her face very gently.

_I should pull away now._

But then his mouth met hers briefly and she was gone. All thought suspended as Logan teased her lips with chaste kisses, putting his arms around her and pulling her forward onto his lap. Unconsciously, Veronica wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning into his kisses. His tongue probed at the seam of her lips and she opened her mouth to his sweet flavor, so much like the Christmas smell she couldn't resist.

And suddenly she could resist. Veronica pulled back, away from him so suddenly, she fell to the floor. Scrambling backwards she ran out of the room, leaving Logan sitting alone in his bed.

Veronica half-ran to the main dining room, eyes frantically searching out her parents. Glancing surreptitiously behind her, she breathed out a sigh of relief, a prayer on her lips—Logan hadn't followed. She found her father, who cajoled Lianne into making her goodbyes, and the Mars family took their leave.


	2. Chapter 2

Logan was in a lot of pain. His shoulder ached, his backside was bloody, and he could practically feel the scar tissue forming on his skin. Biting back a curse, he pushed himself off his bed and loped to the bathroom.

Turning the water on, he leaned carefully against the tile wall, cursing softly as he pulled the slacks from his legs. He'd already changed for the party, but somehow he doubted that bloodstained pants were the way to go downstairs.

_Motherfucker didn't even wrinkle his suit._

Logan knew his mother hired Keith to look into his father's stalker, but there had to be something more. Aaron was too wary of Lynn lately, watching her every move as if he expected her to bolt at any moment. This, Logan also knew, would kill his mother—you didn't leave Aaron Echolls behind, he left you.

As he stepped into the stream of warm water, Logan pondered what Keith might have found that would set his father off so badly. Cursing as the water made contact with his raw skin, he tried to remember what Veronica said when she'd arrived the day before.

Veronica—he'd been thinking less about the words coming out of her mouth and more about her mouth at the time. Her cropped locks that flipped out at the edges had fallen to rest against her shoulders, framing a face that was all at once so familiar and distant.

He'd wanted Veronica for longer than he cared to admit, even to himself. There were always flashes of something--not of desire, Logan knew what that felt like, he'd desired Lilly and gotten her—but of something less fleeting, more intense. When the Fab Four still existed Veronica trusted him with everything, with secrets and lies and wishes. Logan took what contact he could get with Veronica; how could he have told his best friend's girlfriend that he wanted her first and most?

Then he'd help break her into a million pieces, and the contact stopped altogether. Now, she would be at his house once more in less than twenty minutes.

He wanted to believe they could start over again, but he wasn't sure how to make that happen.

Two hours later, he supposed it would begin with her kicking his ass in poker.

Veronica was undoubtedly going to be the winner of tonight's game. She'd dominated every hand, serious as a pro. Minimal conversation, the longest she'd spoken the entire evening had been her "Whodunnit" monologue exposing Sean's guilt.

Logan lifted the edge of his cards, inwardly groaning as he saw that, once again, he would not be able to win back his chips. His stockpile perilously low, he glanced at Veronica, whose face remained impassive. She bit her lip, and he wondered if it was a calculated move to raise doubts about her hand. If it was calculated, he didn't think the effect it had on him was the one she'd anticipated.

"A little impressed, aren't you?" She said as she swept another pile of chips to her end of the table.

"Okay, I say we take a little break, let the cosmos realign--because obviously something is up." Logan answered, pushing back from the table.

Duncan moved toward the main house, and Logan followed him, wanting to apologize. Veronica and Weevil lagged behind. When Logan glanced back, he saw Veronica laugh at something Weevil said. She punched him lightly on the arm, and Logan's stomach flip-flopped. She used to do that to him when he made less-than-polite remarks.

Fifteen minutes later, Logan and Duncan made small talk as they scanned the party from the bar. Logan spotted Veronica and Weevil filling up their plates, and he vaguely wondered if Veronica could still eat two meals and go for dessert.

"So, uh, Veronica can really kill in poker."

Duncan looked at him oddly.

"Just making conversation, I mean, I never knew that under the blonde hair there lay a card shark."

"She cleaned up at your last gambling extravaganza, remember?"

Logan tipped his head back in thought. He remembered seeing her briefly before the games began, but that was it.

"I was pretty trashed that night, dude. I think I saw her at the beginning of the party, but the sequence of events gets a bit muddled later in the evening."

"She put you in bed, man. I left to get Lilly home before my mom saw her all smashed, and Veronica stayed with you to get you upstairs unnoticed. She told me you practically fell over your own feet trying to get into your room."

Logan shook his head, "Alcohol impairs brain function, I guess. I can't get any of that."

Duncan shrugged. A server brushed past the two boys, cutting off what Duncan said and knocking into Logan. Logan's cry of "Hey!" couldn't be heard over the bustle of the party, but everything seemed to go silent as Logan saw a knife disappear into his father's side.

Everything moved in slow motion. Keith Mars appeared and tackled the server, his mother called out for help, and Logan dialed 9-1-1. The next thing he knew he was lying on his stomach by the pool, skimming his hands along the glassy surface as Lamb combed his living room for evidence.

Suddenly he felt a soft touch on his shoulder. Wincing in pain at the pressure on new wounds, Logan turned his head to find Veronica Mars sitting cross-legged next to him.

"Thought you'd gone home with your dad."

"He decided to go to the hospital with your mom once he'd turned the server over to Lamb."

"And you stayed why?"

She tilted her head, watching him with wary eyes.

"Always weighing your options, aren't you, Mars? Don't you ever give a straight answer anymore?"

"I'm not the only one who keeps secrets." A small smile tugged at her lips.

Logan sat up, facing her.

"You look pretty tonight. Dolled up for Connor—or is it Weevil who tickles your fancy nowadays?"

He'd meant the words in jest, but she stopped smiling at him and looked down.

"Yeah," she deadpanned, "guess I'm just a whore. Why did you accept my offer to let me play? I'd have thought you wanted me stripping during breaks in the game. Make the party a little more like Vegas, don't ya think?"

"I just wanted you to know I thought you looked nice."

She stared at him, clearly disbelieving him.

"For God's sake, Veronica! I'm not the devil incarnate. Go away."

He turned back to the pool, feeling her hesitation about leaving him alone.

_Please stay. Please stay._

"I didn't get my money."

"Then by all means, let's get your money."

He stood cautiously, and noticed her staring at him with a patented P.I. look.

"Yes, Nancy Drew?"

"Did you go surfing or something earlier today?"

"No, why?"

"You're bleeding through your shirt."

Twisting, he cringed as he saw that blood spots had indeed appeared on his tee shirt. The sweater he'd worn all evening had become too hot, and he'd left it in the pool house when they'd all moved to the dining room.

He strode toward the pool house, looking back at her when he reached the doorway.

"Coming, Mars?"

She was right on his heels, and as she passed by him to move inside he caught a whiff of her perfume. She smelled so good, he had to bite back a moan as he went to the cashbox and started counting out her chips. He handed her a pile of cash, which she folded up without counting and looked him squarely in the face.

She nodded at his shoulder.

"What are you going to do about bandaging that?"

"Nothing, it's just a scrape."

"Because the eyes you grew in the back of your head that can see through fabric told you that?"

"Leave it alone, Veronica. It's not like you care much about my pain."

"Your dark and twisty pain. Feeling a bit emo, Logan? Thinking about dying your hair black to match your tormented inner soul?"

She reached for the hem of his shirt, but he stopped her from pulling it over his head.

"Stop it."

"Why don't you want to take care of it? You're bleeding, for God's sake!"

"Fine. You want to fix it? Kiss it better? Here!" He pulled off the shirt in one fluid motion. "Fix it Veronica! Tell me everything is gonna be okay."

Her mouth was caught in an open 'oh!' and he knew it probably looked pretty bad. Turning away from her, he caught sight of himself in the mirror. The whip marks were clearly visible across his back, dried blood pebbling the scratches. He knew from experience that it looked worse than it was.

Her voice was low, dangerous even.

"Who did this to you, Logan?"

"It doesn't matter."

"It matters to me."

He turned back to her, saw her hand at her throat, her eyes filled with tears.

_She would try to protect him if he let her. She cared enough to do that._

"Veronica, look, it's fine. Just go. You don't want to get mixed up in this."

She didn't move.

"What if I do?"

"I don't want you mixed up in this, okay?"

She turned, leaving him alone in the pool house. His emotions were running rampant. He wanted her to stay, he wanted her to go, and she was gone. Falling onto the couch, he lay staring at the fire.

Cool fingers brushed his wounded shoulder, his eyes snapped open to see Veronica kneeling beside the couch, ointment in her hand.

"I told you to go."

He wanted it to sound harsh, ungrateful and unfeeling, but it wasn't.

"I told you I wanted to stay."

A look of concentration on her face, she covered his skin with soft cotton bandages she'd found inside the house. Pulling him up to a sitting position, she handed him a shirt from his room.

"The pants with the blood on them are soaking in the sink—I found them sitting outside your bathroom when I got this." Veronica said, gesturing to the ointment.

He nodded, and she sat down next to him.

"How long?"

He didn't answer, mesmerized by the sight of her on the couch before him. He'd wished for a new beginning and here it was.

"Logan, how long?"

He leaned into her, surprising both himself and Veronica. She froze for a moment, then responded to his touch, parting her lips slightly. He put his hands on her shoulders, sliding them up to cup her neck and pull her closer.

She tasted amazing, like lip gloss and sweet wine, and he wanted so badly to believe that she wanted him too, that the pulse he could feel racing under his fingertips was for him, because of him.

She pulled back, looking at him, shaking her head slightly. Logan knew if he gave her time to think about this she'd run.

So he didn't give her time to think about it.

His mouth crushed down on hers like she was the only woman left in the world. Hungry, demanding kisses, which she met with teeth and tongue. Fisting his hands in her hair, Logan tilted her head back, giving him access to her neck. She twisted in pleasure when he bit down gently by her ear. Experimentally, he ran his tongue along the spot, hearing her cry out and wondering if he'd been the first to find this place on Veronica Mars, this erogenous zone that made her shriek with pleasure.

His hands slid to her waist as she wound her fingers through his hair, teasing his chest with soft kisses and licks. Logan tugged at her hemline, moving his hands under the barrier of the soft fabric, up to a bra he could feel was made of lace.

Then she stopped, pushing suddenly at his chest. She leapt off the couch, grabbing her backpack and slamming the door as she left. Sitting in silence for only a moment, Logan gave chase, catching her as she opened the door to her car.

"Veronica, stop!"

"You told me to go not so long ago, Echolls. Make up your mind."

She faced him, the car door between their bodies.

"I'm not doing this again."

_Again?_

"Doing what?"

"You can't kiss me and ignore me; I'm not a toy for you to play with when you're sad and lonely!"

"What are you—"

"Your last 'Poker Party,' you asshole. When I tucked you into bed and you started going on about flowers and Lilly, and then suddenly we were lip-locked. I was sitting there wondering if it meant something, wondering how to tell Duncan I'm leaving him, and then you didn't even have the decency to calla nd apologize!"

Flushed and angry, she slammed the door and shoved him away from her car. Standing before the most beautiful pissed off girl he'd ever seen, Logan tried to process what she'd just said.

"Oh my God, you don't remember it, do you?"

She turned away from him, shaking her head in disgust.

"Leaving Duncan?" he managed.

"I bet on you, and it didn't pay off. I distanced myself from Duncan, I wanted to make it easier on him when I broke his heart. But you never called…"

She looked at him again, tears in her eyes.

"You never called, and I knew it meant nothing to you. Then you were back with Lilly and I was left wondering why my heart won't mend when I had the best guy in the world wanting to know why I was never around!"

"But—you and Duncan—"

She cut him off, her voice rising steadily.

"Then Duncan was gone, and Lilly said I was better off, then Lilly was gone and I was left with you, but you didn't just leave me, you ran over me with a train—"

"I'm so—"

"Sorry doesn't begin to cover it, Logan. Just stay the fuck away from me."

She turned and left him standing alone in the night.


	3. Chapter 3

The music slammed into Veronica when she pulled open the heavy door of Duncan's suite. Strobe lights pulsated in time with the techno beat as she wound her way through the mass of writhing bodies. Her gaze spanned the room; the 09ers had outdone themselves this Christmas. In one hotel suite they'd managed to jam together a bar, a DJ setup, and a dancefloor, plus Duncan's tree.

_Duncan's suite, Duncan's party, Duncan's tree…but where is Duncan?_

Veronica pushed through a throng of scantily clad girls congregating by the couch to the door to Duncan's room. Pushing at the door, she found it unlocked, but the room was dark and deserted. It was blissfully quiet though, so she sat on the edge of the bed to catch her breath.

"Didn't think you were coming to this x-mas bash. Don't you avowedly hate half the crowd that came to party?"

Veronica whirled around to find Logan sitting by Duncan's nightstand, his long legs curled against the wall. An empty card package lay beside him; it looked like he had been playing solitaire.

"Shouldn't you be out there, hosting or something? Or in the very least hiding in your own room?"

"Dick commandeered my room for a game of strip poker about an hour ago."

He stood, gathering the cards and stretching out across the bed. The volume from the party increased suddenly, and he winced.

Veronica watched him, not failing to appreciate the way his abs looked when he flipped over onto his back. He stared at the ceiling and she stared at him.

"Do you know where Duncan is?"

Wordlessly, he shook his head.

Veronica sighed, the reached into her bag and pulled out a small package.

"Will you make sure he gets this?"

"You aren't staying?

"I only came to give him his present and leave. We, um, well, we're…"

"Not on good terms? Isn't Christmas the time for joy and happiness, or did Meg get in the way of that one? It's always the angels—you think you know them, then they turn out to be devil-spawn underneath."

It was probably meant to be harsh, but his tone wasn't mocking and he still hadn't looked at her.

"Yeah, well, there's that." She reached over him, putting the box next to Duncan's alarm clock. Now quite close to Logan, she stayed sitting, keeping her eyes on his face.

Hooking her bag with her foot, she pulled it up close to her hands and reached in again.

"This one's for you."

He sat up, startled. Taking the package from her hands, he set it aside. Veronica tilted her head, watching him carefully.

"I'll open it on the 25th, like a good boy."

She laughed aloud, surprising herself. It had been a long time since she'd laughed, even longer since Logan had made her laugh.

"You do that."

Standing to go, she gathered her bag and took two steps toward the door. Pausing, she turned back to look at him; he was sitting on the bed, toying with the deck of cards in his hands.

"Do you want someone to play with?"

She flushed, bracing herself for his biting sexual retort, but it didn't come.

"Okay."

Kicking off her shoes, Veronica twisted the lock on the door, unwilling to have Madison Sinclair barge in on the solitude looking for somewhere to lose her liquor. She sat back down on the edge of the bed, scooting forward until she faced Logan, who now sat cross-legged and leaned against the headboard.

"Poker?"

"For the sake of tradition?"

He looked at her briefly, and then glanced away.

"Sure, if you want to call it that. Since I am once again the host, I'll deal."

His fingers flitted over the cards, shuffling them neatly. Veronica nearly moaned as the summer memories of what those talented fingers could do flooded into her mind.

_Focus, Veronica, focus. It's just a card game with the boy you never stopped lov—_

"You're going down, Mars."

"In your dreams, Echolls."

An hour later, Logan threw his cards down and threw his hands up, gesturing defeat.

"I," he proclaimed, waving his hands, "am famished. Let us scour the party for provisions before continuing on in this insane fashion."

"I hardly think me winning is new or unusual—or insane, for that matter."

Logan launched himself off the bed, landing on his feet easily. He held out a hand to her, and she took it without thinking. His palms were warm; out of habit, she interlaced her fingers with his. Logan dropped her hand when he reached the door of the suite, Veronica could feel herself blushing.

Outside their calm haven, the party still raged on. Logan gathered sodas from the fridge, and he took an unopened bottle of rum from a cabinet he promptly locked, much to the dismay of the nearby drunks still looking for one more. Veronica, meanwhile, seized two bags of pretzels and found that there was still cake available that didn't look too bad at all.

Retreating back into the room, she marveled at their feast.

"How on earth is there still so much food still out there? This party's been going for almost three hours now!"

"Didn't you see the room service cart in the corner, Miss Sherlock? Duncan paid the staff to keep the food coming—but only food and sodas. He figured people would leave once the alcohol ran too low. From the looks of it, he's run up quite a tab. I told him this party was a shitty idea."

"Can you actually ask them to do that?"

"No, but money talks—you know that."

Veronica wrinkled her nose, thinking of the money being wasted in the next room. Duncan never could grasp the idea of wanting without having, and it was cute in a naive sort of way—he was like a child no one could deny anything.

"Well, we reap the reward. What kind of drink for you, m'lady?"

"Just soda, thank you." Veronica tore open one of the bags of pretzels and happily watched as Logan mixed himself a drink—lighter on the rum than normal, she noted—and picked at a piece of cake. She laughed as he proceeded to get green frosting all over his face.

"What's the grin for?"

"Just—well, you've got—" Veronica wiped at her own chin.

"Here?" He mimicked her, only making it worse by smearing the icing across his chin.

"No,"

"Here?" He missed altogether.

"No, just let me do it."

Veronica grabbed a napkin and crawled toward Logan, kneeling over him as she removed the traces of icing from his face. He eyes fluttered closed and he exhaled in a sigh. He really was so pretty, so perfect; Veronica could only wonder what might between them as she lowered her lips to his.

Framing his face with her hands, she settled herself so that she straddled his lap. His hands came up to steady her, automatically resting at her hips.

"Veronica, what are you doing?" he whispered softly against her ear, making her purr.

"Giving you an early Christmas present."

She kissed him quickly, fiercely, running her hands down his torso, and he stopped questioning her altogether.

Flipping her onto the bed, Logan ran his hands through her hair. He kissed her neck and Veronica could feel vibrations run straight to the pit of her stomach. His hands were under her shirt—this was moving much faster than any make-out session they'd had over the summer.

She sat up, pulling his shirt off, then she put her hands up like a child, letting him tug the garment over her head. His eyes drank in her pale skin, his hands moved along her ribcage until he reached her bra. She watched his face as he reached around to unhook the catch in the back, his eyes intense and dark and locked with hers.

She inhaled sharply as he released her breasts to the cold air, her nipples stiffening and turning dark. Logan leaned her back onto the pillows, trailing kisses down her collarbone until he reached the side of her right breast. Licking the nipple gently, he teased the other breast with his hand, fingers trailing along the soft underside. He stroked and petted her in time with his tongue until Veronica mewled like a kitten.

When he planted his thigh firmly between her legs, Veronica thrust her hips into him. She rubbed against him, desperately for the friction she wanted. Veronica could barely think when he stopped completely, and she tossed her head in frustration.

"Yes, Veronica?" he teased.

"Don't stop, Logan, please don't stop."

He chuckled against her skin, nimble fingers working the button of her jeans until he could pull her zipper down. He moved lower, peeling the fabric from her legs and running his finger over the cotton of her underwear. She moaned, grateful for the pounding music of the party for the first time all evening.

"You're so wet, Veronica, did you know that? Have I been working for you for a while now and not known it?"

She nodded, jerking against his fingers as he removed her underwear with his free hand. He moved back up to her mouth, kissing her deeply as he slipped a finger inside of her. Meeting with no resistance, he added another finger and twisted them inside of her.

She stiffened, back bowing as he watched her face; she could feel him looking at her even if she couldn't see straight. He massaged her clit with his thumb while stroking her with the two fingers he kept inside. Crooking one finger suddenly and gauging her reaction, he moved lower and pressed kisses along her abdomen.

He spread her thighs wider, and opened her fold with his fingers, blowing warm air gently across her clit. Her hands fisted in the covers, and he moved closer, tonguing at her opening before thrusting inside, rotating his tongue as he returned his thumb to its massage. She gasped, crying out and stiffening and then she was coming, her sweetness flowing across his tongue. Logan moved to watch her face, replacing his tongue with his hand as he helped her ride out her orgasm.

Veronica opened her eyes as Logan wiped his mouth, pressing a kiss to her temple. She reached for the bulge of his jeans, but he shook his head and lay down next to her, one arm across her chest. Overcome by thoughts of Logan, and Duncan, and Duncan's suite and the party that raged on, Veronica determined she was too tired to budge, and as she closed her eyes she felt herself relax and slip into sleep.

When Veronica opened her eyes again, she was alone and dressed. The cards and food they'd had in the suite had disappeared and she was tucked under the covers. Disoriented, she stood and moved to the door in a haze. Duncan and Logan moved around the main room in tandem, picking up bottles and trash. The maids would clean the suite, but the alcohol had to be gone before then.

Duncan looked up and spotted Veronica.

"Hey, sweetie, did you sleep well? Sorry I wasn't here, I just…had some stuff to do. Logan said you didn't party on with the gang."

Veronica looked at him, safe, sweet Duncan, and then looked over to where Logan was sorting bottles from garbage.

"Yeah, we played some poker to avoid the uh—party crowd."

"Really? That's cool, babe."

Duncan walked around the couch, placing a kiss against Veronica's hair when he reached her. Veronica never took her eyes off Logan, who looked up to see Duncan smiling at Veronica.

Logan tossed her a light smile, and his eyes told her he'd never tell and so much more all at once.


	4. Chapter 4

The vodka burned a path down his throat, untainted by juices or mixers; there was no soda to take the edge off. Logan held the bottle up, looking at the liquid world through the glass. A blurry, wobbling tree sparkled in the corner of his room, and as he lowered the bottle he wondered again why the staff of the Grand continued to try and lift his spirits with anything other than—well, spirits.

Grinning ruefully, Logan stood. Deciding to get drunk and sleep his way through the morbid holiday season was easy; putting this brilliant plan in action had turned out to be shocking difficult.

_Fuck, I just wanted this year to be different._

Logan slid his phone open, debating on whether or not to call Dick. The alcohol would certainly disappear, he knew, but this feeling of melancholy would linger, teasing him with flickers of sadness and despair. Christmas past, indeed.

The circled day on his calendar brought him back to reality, pulling him from thoughts of pears, angry fathers, mothers reeking of wine and blank tapes arranged cautiously in a line. Veronica had circled the 24th close to a month ago, when he'd told her he'd found her the perfect Christmas present. Begging him to spill his secret, she'd danced around the room, counting days and making lists of the horrible things she'd do to torture him if he didn't tell. She circled Christmas Eve as their day to exchange presents, leaving the real Christmas morning for time with her father.

The necklace lay in a tiny box, already wrapped by his own unsteady hands, in the corner of his dresser drawer. Frosted glass formed the petals of a carefully crafted lily, the top petal looped to hang on a chain of white gold—it would have looked beautiful on her. Maybe he'd leave it on her porch tomorrow, while she celebrated the season with her father and Wallace.

The door behind him shut gently with a light snick.

He didn't turn, choosing to tip his head back and rub away the tension in his neck. She'd come to leave her key, that's all.

"Logan?"

"Just leave it and go, Veronica. I'm not feeling all holly and jolly right now."

She didn't respond to the barb, and when he heard the door open and close again he turned, ready to snap the plastic key card and throw the shards over his balcony rail. Instead, Logan found himself looking at a red box tied with silver ribbon. She'd brought him a gift.

Dashing into the hall, he saw the elevator doors shut and heard the tell-tale hum of the machinery taking the girl he couldn't stop loving away from him once again. Adrenaline coursing through him, Logan spun on his heel and threw open the door leading to the stairs.

Twelve flights later, he knew why he'd never taken the stairs before.

He tumbled out into the lobby and ran to the door, crossing the parking lot in long strides to a familiar silver Saturn. Pausing only for a moment, he steeled himself for her wrath and tapped on the window.

Nothing happened. He tapped again before peering closer and seeing that she wasn't there. He couldn't have run faster than the elevator, could he?

Logan surveyed the half-empty lot in front of the Grand, noting that most of the regular vehicles were gone, people opting to party with family and friends on Christmas Eve rather than staying in and drowning their sorrows in liquor.

A familiar figure appeared at the main doors of the Grand, illuminated by the festive lights of the lobby behind her. She was dabbing at her eyes with a napkin emblazoned with the hotel's crest—she'd stopped in the bar adjacent to the lobby and he'd dashed right past her.

Logan froze, unsure of what to do, as he always was when it came to Veronica Mars. Did he let her go, tell her to go even? Or should he take the calculated risk that was inviting her to stay? He doubted she'd even accept an invitation back upstairs—he'd just bellowed at her to leave, after all.

She'd spotted him from across the rows of parking spaces and stood shock-still, pondering her choices.

"You got here fast." She choked out, voiced laced with tears he knew she'd tried desperately to hide.

"Yeah, well, the stairs aren't so bad…maybe I'll take them more often."

"The stairs?" Her gaze swept back to the hotel, "You live on the top floor, Logan."

"My legs are confirming that fact as we speak."

She shifted her weight, clearly uncomfortable and confused.

Logan cleared his throat, coming to a decision.

"So, uh—would you like to collect your present?"

"What?"

"Your present—I still have it upstairs. Today's the 24th, remember? Our Christmas," he reminded her softly, praying she hadn't totally forgotten him, hadn't totally cut him out of her life and her heart.

_She's here isn't she? This has to mean something. _

Veronica bit her lip, and nodded. She turned and made her way back to the hotel, tossing the napkin in the trashcan by the door.

Logan thought he would die inside the elevator it was so quiet. They stood on opposite sides, each focused directly ahead, both jumping slightly as the doors slid open to reveal Logan's hall.

His door stood open—he hadn't shut it when he dashed out after her. Veronica's brow furrowed when she walked in the door, and she glanced quizzically at him.

"When did you get a tree?"

"The staff put it up. It isn't really my sort of thing, you know?"

"Too fancy, you mean?"

"I guess," He'd meant having a tree at all, but if there was one thing he didn't want, it was Veronica's pity. Wisely, he chose to shut his mouth and leave it at that.

She settled herself on the couch, shucking her shoes and folding her legs up under a throw blanket. Logan looked at her for a long moment, then went to his room and found his gift to her.

"Where's your dad tonight? I figured you'd be with him, celebrating and all."

"He's of chasing some bail jumper for Lamb. He didn't really need the job, but I told him to take it. We can always use the money for Hearst or something. Being prepared, I suppose."

Logan sat on the opposite end of the couch, maintaining a cautious distance. He put her present of the table, sliding it to her with a tiny shove.

"Do I open it now, or wait until morning?"

"Whatever you want, Veronica."

"Okay, we'll open them at the same time."

Obediently, he lifted his package from the table where he'd left it. At Veronica's nod he pulled of the bow, tearing off the paper as he did so. It was only when he set the monogrammed chip holder on the table that he realized she hadn't touched her own gift.

"Hey!" He began to protest, but she silenced him with a look.

"I wanted to see you open it, okay?" She smiled nervously, "Did I choose alright? I guessed that the boy who has everything could use something personalized and swanky."

"Swanky?"

"You know what I mean."

"It's perfect. Open yours."

Logan noted that Veronica did not tear or scratch at her paper, but rather she folded it back primly. The tiny black velvet box made her frown at him, but the necklace inside made her lips twitch into a tiny smile.

"Is it glass?"

He exhaled the breath he hadn't know he was holding.

"Yeah."

"Help me put it on?"

She handed him the box and pulled her hair off her neck, twisting so that he could see where she'd been shaved. A tiny silver clip held the newly-grown blond locks, and when Logan hooked the clasp of the necklace together, he couldn't help but run his thumb over the clip as well. He swallowed thickly, remembering his fear from that night, the night he thought he'd lost her. Then she'd put herself in danger again…

Veronica stood, slipping into her shoes and gathering the paper. He didn't speak. At the door, she paused, then said clearly, "Merry Christmas, Logan."

"Merry Christmas, Veronica."

She started out the door, then stopped again.

"Logan?"

He lifted his head, staring mutely at the beautiful girl he didn't think he could ever forget. The girl who stayed behind one Christmas, the girl who kissed him softly outside a seedy motel room, the girl who accused him of evil, the girl who refused to trust him completely and the girl who ignored his calls.

"Mmm?"

"I love you."

And, just like that, she was gone.

It was like a thunderstorm erupted in his mind then ceased immediately, leaving him feeling clean and whole. He followed her out of the suite for the second time that night, catching her before she could push the button for the elevator.

Her hands went around his neck, clinging to him as he claimed her mouth again and again. Veronica's hair smelled like cinnamon and he wondered if this was the Christmas smell she'd always talked about.

Taking her hands in his own, he pulled her fingers off his neck and dragged her into the suite, shutting the door and returning to her with a kiss. Logan ran his hands down her body, watching with delight as she tipped her head back, arching against him. He lowered his head to suckle at her neck, kissing a trail up to the spot on her ear he'd found so many Christmases ago.

She gasped, and whimpered when he refused to stop his assault on her body. Wrapping his arms around her, he lifted her gently and carried her to his bed.

Veronica pulled him on top her, nimbly flicking open the button on his shirt as she did so. He pulled at her sweater, getting it caught on her sole hairclip. She watched his face as he worked it free, running her fingers lightly over his chest.

Logan pulled her skirt off easily, smiling at the black silk bra and panties he'd bought her nearly three months earlier. She'd sworn never to wear black underthings and she had laughed when he handed her the bag.

"Why Miss Mars, I'm scandalized," he quipped.

She flicked open the button of his jeans and as she pulled the zipper down slowly she locked eyes with him and murmured, "Yeah well, you should be."

Before he could respond, she pulled his pants and boxers off completely. Logan reached for her, but Veronica smiled a vixen's smile and pushed him back against the pillows.

Logan's eyes rolled back into his head as he felt gentle fingertips run the length of his cock. It had been weeks since he'd even seen her for more than a moment's time, and now this was happening. He knew he wasn't going to last long, and he couldn't stop his hips from jerking wildly. Her hand sped up its ministrations, and he moaned when he felt her lips against his skin.

Opening his eyes, he looked down to see Veronica's blonde head bobbing over him as her wine-colored lips encircled his length. She steadied herself with one hand, and he watched as the other moved underneath her chin to cup him, her fingers rolling his balls carefully.

"Oh, God, Veronica!"

He came, hard in her mouth. Pushing her off him, he watched in fascination at her smirk as she swallowed.

"Scandalized?" She whispered, moving to straddle him with a kiss.

"Completely."

Leaning forward, she kissed him again, and he responded in kind, tipping her backwards until it was she who lay against the covers. The sight of her, flushed and gorgeous was more than enough to send shivers straight down Logan's body—and straight to his cock, which stiffened instantly. Reaching to the bedside table, he opened a drawer and pulled out a condom. Veronica tugged it from his grip and tore open the package, sliding the latex over him easily.

Veronica's fingers traced unidentifiable patterns across his chest, and her back arched as he slid inside her. She was so tiny, so tight—she felt unbelievable around him. Slowly, he pushed completely inside her, then began pulling back out. Just as he was about to leave her completely, Logan heard her whimper.

She clutched at him as he moved back inside, moving faster and harder as she rocked upwards, slamming into him with the same force. Changing his angle, Logan moved deeper inside of her, she was so close; he could feel her vibrating under him, her body begging for release. Suddenly Veronica twisted beneath him, her body convulsing around him. It was enough and too much and he screamed out her name as she cried out his own.

Spent, exhausted, and happy, Logan curled around Veronica and fell asleep.

The rays of the sun struck his face at an odd angle, bent through the glass and twisted into tiny slivers that danced across the bedcovers. His arm tingled, feeling as if he had slept on pins and needles. Opening his eyes, he saw that Veronica's head rested in the crook of his elbow.

As he shifted on the bed, pulling on his boxers, she opened her eyes, blinking rapidly as she adjusted to the morning light.

"G'morning," she grumbled, sitting up and pulling the sheets around her.

"Hello there,"

"It's Christmas morning."

"So it is."

"I wonder if Santa left me anything good."

Unconsciously, she toyed with the necklace still clasped around her neck. Logan watched her fingers from his place on the edge of the bed.

"Logan?"

"Veronica?"

"Does this mean that you forgive me for being, well, a bitch to you?"

"You weren't—"

Tears filled her eyes as she protested vehemently.

"I was though. I was distant and cold and ignored you…and I was wrong."

They both looked at each other for a long moment.

"I was wrong." She repeated softly.

"Are you going to stop putting yourself in unnecessary danger?"

"Unnecessary?"

Logan scooted closer to her on the bed.

"As in, will you please give me or Wallace—or even Piz--a call when you're going to catch the bad guy?"

"Yes."

He kissed her forehead, and she tilted her face up to meet his lips with hers.

"Then let's go see what Santa thought of your behavior this year."

Running her hands down his arms, she stopped him from getting up.

"Let's just sit here for a while."

"You don't want to see your presents?"

She tilted her head, smiling at him beatifically.

"I think I got what I wished for right here."


End file.
